


Bleat and Conquer

by BladeoftheNebula



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Sex, Ancient Rome, Bodice-Ripper, Fauns & Satyrs, Gladiators, Kidfic, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Pregnancy, Protective Steve Rogers, Rimming, Slavery, minor dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladeoftheNebula/pseuds/BladeoftheNebula
Summary: Stíofán has thought of nothing but freedom since he was taken and forced to fight as a gladiator in Rome's colosseum. But that all changes when he's offered a bride as a prize in the games.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 118
Kudos: 314





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a proper bodice ripper, complete with sexy gladiators and an arranged marriage of sorts ❤️
> 
> MINOR WARNING: This is slightly dub-con - it's a historical romance with some raunchiness, so by modern standards, we would say Tony's situation means his choices aren't 100% his own. Within the context, however, Tony does not object to any sexual contact and is making the most of the situation he's in.  
> 
> 
> Also, I have played hard and fast with my knowledge of Ancient Rome XD so while I know my stuff, I have used or not used parts as fit best for the story. I've played even harder with my knowledge of Ancient Ireland and taken many liberties. 
> 
> 🎉🎉🎉 [MAIRI MADE ME ART!!! CLICK AND GO SEE IT!!!](https://twitter.com/KappaMairi/status/1346448406361890816?s=20) 🎉🎉🎉

“Did you see what the prize was for the gladiatorial contest tomorrow?” One of the guards asked another, as they walked past Stíofán’s room. 

Stíofán knew from the voice it was Pierce, and so with him must be...

Hammer made an affirmative sound. “The does? Sure did. I hear they’re the cast-off fauns from the Matchmaking Stable - didn’t make the grade but still fine enough to look at if the ones I caught sight of going into the _lanista_ ’s office are anything to go by. I had to slip away for some privacy if you take my meaning.”

“You horny devil,” Pierce laughed. “Well, you can get your chance. Rumour is the spares will be sent to the red light district. You can have your fill if you can afford it.”

“And to think one of these animals gets to keep one free of charge...” the voices faded as they drifted down the corridor.

Stíofán rubbed a hand over his horns where he sat on his pallet. He’d heard of course. The _lanista_ had delivered them the news earlier in the week, to give them a reason to train harder. He also had a suspicion that there was the hope of offspring that could be trained for the _Ludus_. Stíofán wasn’t going to fall for it. He’d fight of course, but it would be for his reasons.

Mainly his freedom. 

One day he’d return home, leaving the heaving, stinking, filthy city of Rome behind, and return to the rolling hills of his home, Hibernia to the Romans, _Īweriū_ to his people. If only he had never left to trade in Londinium. He never would’ve been drugged by the man he had been beating at dice and traded for an amphora of wine to be a slave in Rome. But it had happened, and now there was only this. Earning a pittance, trying to buy his freedom. 

They could offer him all the pretty does they wanted, nothing would make him complacent. Though he had to admit, the smell of ready-to-mate doe on the breeze was delicious. He could well understand why they considered it a temptation. There were a lot of lonely nights in the _Ludus_ , the sounds of the other satyrs pleasing themselves not uncommon.

But, Stíofán could wait. One day he’d be home and have a plot of land to raise a family on, and a fine bride who’d give him kids of his own who would never know the debauchery and cruelty of this lot. 

He just had to be patient. 

So no, he wouldn’t be fooled. He’d fight as he needed, and he’d take the money on offer, add it to his pot. He wasn’t the kind to have his head turned by some faun. He had a plan, and he was sticking to it. 

* * *

The horn sounded loud, echoing across the stadium as the crowd roared. The morning’s entertainment was over, and it was time for satyr-to-satyr combat. The line up before the consul was familiar, the large grey centaur sitting in a box high above them, the weapons handed out to his preference. 

What was different was the pen to the side. Inside were around fifteen does, all huddled near the back. The scent was almost intoxicating, getting Stíofán’s blood racing despite his best attempts. Each alpha was allowed to go inspect, get a look at the goods before fights would start, and Stíofán took his turn after Hammer gave him a jab in the kidneys. 

As he approached, he noticed many of the does perk up in interest, which was flattering. Stíofán knew he cut a good figure, the years of fighting making his body tight and lean, the muscles on full display. He was younger too, still only in his twenty-third year, compared to most of the others who were now old men, haggard and grizzled, though strong enough to put up a good fight. 

As he got close to the pen, several of the fauna came to the forefront, leaning on the fencing to better show off their assets. Stíofán could see several pairs of fine furred legs, flashing beneath fine silks, and finely polished hooves and horns. They were all very fine, Stíofán thought. If these were the ones the Stables rejected, he couldn’t imagine what the higher-level ones looked like. Some of the more brazen ones wagged their tails, making it clear they were ready to mate, and Stíofán was forced to breathe through his mouth to keep the desire from shooting south. Perhaps he had been a little hasty. 

As he walked the long line of the pen, he noticed one in particular. He was at the end, fleece black with white flecks. Stíofán could see ample thighs, and dainty hooves, and the suggestion of a shapely behind beneath the fabric he wore. Stíofán looked up from his perusal, finding himself looking into a pair of inquisitive eyes. The doe looked at him, ears flicking beneath dark curls. Stíofán felt desire pool in his belly. This one. This one he could imagine fighting for. He let himself imagine it, the faun baring himself to Stíofán in his cell, being able to mount him after a long day of fighting, and the sweeter side of having a bride, having someone to talk to, banishing the loneliness Stíofán usually felt as he dreamed of home. As he let himself look at the doe again, their tail flicked twice, and Stíofán had to focus so as not to embarrass himself. He let himself drink him in for just a moment more before he returned to the line. That doe would be his. He swore it. 

These games had come with a twist, they soon found out. Instead of simply fighting each other, a champion from a different Ludus was here, a large, heavyset man by the name of Ivor. He was big, very big, but Stíofán could already tell he’d be slow. He’d looked over the does, a mean smile on his face, and as the one he already thought of as his flinched, Stíofán realised there was no way he would let Ivor anywhere near him. 

It was a simple system of disqualification, the winner went on to the next round until one remained. 

Stíofán was the best fighter there, so it was easy for him to move through the rounds until he and Ivor stood, awaiting the signal to begin.

He could hear the crowd chanting his name as he and Ivor circled each other. The fight was to first surrender, so Stíofán knew he had to go in hard and fast since he was already too tired to simply wear the other satyr down. 

_Hoplomachus,_ they called him, the old sword and shield they’d given him reminiscent of the Greeks. 

He raised his sword, slashing it against the buck’s arm, dodging a return strike. He could smell the fight on him, the satyr was not going down without a fight. Ivor was large and Stíofán could use that to his advantage. The next time Ivor went for him, he dashed to the side, jumping up to wrap his arms around the other satyr’s neck. He let himself go limp, his weight dragging the other down to the ground, with a heavy thud. 

“You little bastard!” The other buck roared in outrage, trying to get himself upright. 

Stíofán rolled to his knees before the big, unwieldy guy got to his hooves. He threw himself over the buck’s chest, clinging to the wide expanse as the satyr fought him. He took advantage of Ivor’s lack of grace, straddling his chest and pointing his sword at the thick neck beneath the heavy helmet waiting for the call. He saw the gesture finishing the fight and stood, his arms out as he showed off a little to the crowd, the bright sun warm of his naked chest, and his fleece damp with sweat. 

“Your gods did not smile on you today, Ivor,” Stíofán said, trying not to sound too smug, but by the sour look on the other Satyr’s face, he didn’t manage it.

Half of this job was popularity and as much as he hated it, he knew he couldn’t afford to shun it. He gave a few poses for laughs and appreciative stares, but as he courted the cheers of ‘ _hoplomachus_!’, his eyes flicked over to the doe watching curiously from the side of the arena. 

He gave him a heated look, and the doe’s tail wagged twice. Oh yes, he’d made the right choice.

* * *

After the announcement, Stíofán followed the others to get cleaned up. He washed the dust and sweat from his body, even as the complaints reached his ears behind him. 

“Can’t believe I missed out on a doe, I’ve been here ten years and this young buck just up and nabs the first decent opportunity I’ve had. My balls are about ready to explode the amount of use they’ve had.”

Stíofán tried to ignore it as he stripped off, making sure to scrub the dry blood from his hocks. 

“Maybe Stíofán’ll let you have a turn when he’s done, share the loot,” another cackled and Stíofán could feel his shoulders tightening. 

“Yeah, maybe. Hey Stíofán, any chance you could let that sweet piece of fleece come by my cell tomo--” He choked, his air suddenly cut off by Stíofán's hand around his throat, his horns digging against the other satyr’s cheek. 

“Anyone touches the doe, hell, you so much as look at him while you’re thinking anything that like and I’ll gore you, no questions asked.”

“Hey, he was just kidding, relax,” the satyr next to him said, hands up in supplication.

“Was he?” He let his horns press a little harder. “I sure hope so.”

“I was! I was, I promise.”

Stíofán held him for a moment longer and then pushed him back. “You bucks enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”

He gave himself a rubdown with the provided rags, rewrapped the fabric of his _subligaculum_ around his waist and then wandered back towards the sleeping quarters.

“If you change your mind, I’d pay a fair price,” he heard yelled to him as he turned the corner. “Think about it, we all know you’ve been saving.”

He brushed the idea aside though it wasn’t as if it wasn’t an option. The _lanista_ had made it clear that within the walls of the _Ludus_ , the doe was his. Outside, he was owned by the school just as anyone else. 

As he got close, he could feel his muscles tensing. That beautiful creature would be in his room, waiting for him. It was almost too good to be true. 

He reached his door, and with a deep breath, pushed it open.

The doe stood in the middle of the room, those same pretty eyes fixed on Stíofán. 

Stíofán cleared his throat. “Hi.”

The faun’s mouth moved as if to speak, but before any sound could be heard, the doe’s eyes went glassy and he collapsed to the floor. 

“Oh fuck!” Stíofán slammed the door behind him, rushing over to check the faun’s pulse. “Fuck, fuck, he’s dead, he’s--”

There was a steady pulse beneath his fingers and Stíofán breathed a sigh of relief. This close he could see the doe’s dark eyelashes, smell his warm spicy scent. And the way he’d fallen, the soft fabric covering him up had slipped, giving Stíofán a clear view of sharp collarbones and the long line of his neck. Stíofán licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry. He moved to his storage chest, pulling out a rag and dipped in his water bucket. He knelt back down, and wiped it over the doe’s face, letting the cool water splash gently down his cheeks.

Eventually, eyelids fluttered, and the doe blinked, pushing himself up as he came to. He looked around and then looked at Stíofán, eyes wide. “Oh.”

“Hi,” Stíofán said, hoping to make a better impression. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, just got a little excited there for a second,” the doe said, looking embarrassed. Stíofán grabbed the small pitcher of wine and offered it to him, watching with interest the way his throat moved as he drank.

“That wasn’t the best impression,” the doe said, readjusting the silk so it lay better. “I am Antonius.”

“Stíofán.” He placed a hand behind Antonius’ back and helped him to his hooves. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” The doe looked around the room. “I suppose this is my new home.”

“Only the finest for the fighters of the _Ludus_ ,” Stíofán said dryly and Antonius flicked back to him. He became aware of a hot, heady perfume coming off the doe, made to entice a buck. He was starting to feel drunk on it.

“So it would seem.”

Stíofán knew he ought to feel embarrassed. And maybe two years ago he would’ve. But losing his freedom had taken much of his ability to feel shame. He shrugged at the doe. “It is what it is.”

The colour was coming back to Antonius’ cheeks, fortified by the wine. “It is more privacy than we are given at the Stables. You have a solid door for one. And no one to share with.”

“You don’t?”

Antonius shook his head. “We share large quarters with many of us all together. Before this, I shared a sleeping mat with two others.”

“Then this will seem like a luxury,” Stíofán joked, and the doe gave him a soft smile.

“You were very impressive, by the way, _hoplomachus_. That big brute Ivor didn’t stand a chance.”

Reminded of the fight, Stíofán felt the energy still bursting beneath his skin, seeking an outlet. Stíofán stepped forward, wrapping an arm loosely around the doe’s waist, pulling him up against his chest. “Well, I had a good incentive. I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful doe in my life.”

“Oh,” the doe said, eyes big as he looked up at him. “Really?”

Stíofán leaned down to blow gently on his neck, feeling Antonius shiver. His own interest was becoming plain, his cock pressing against the front of the knotted fabric he wore, straining between his furred legs. He tried not to groan at the feel of it pressing against the doe’s thigh. “Mhmmm. I smelt your sweet scent and all I could think about was getting you here, mounting you until you bleat loud enough for everyone to hear.”

Antonius flushed red, his face as though aflame. “I haven’t ever--”

“I figured as much. I doubted they’d let you fool around with bucks at the Stable am I right?”

Antonius shook his head, pressing a little closer to Stíofán. “We’re kept away, there’s always an older faun present.”

Untouched. Stíofán could feel the desire rushing southward. He was hard enough to pound iron. “I like it. That I’ll be the first Buck you’ll ever have.”

“You do?” Antonius looked up from beneath his lashes, in a clearly practised move, but knowing it was taught didn’t make Stíofán any less hungry for him. “So I...please you, then?”

“Very much so,” Stíofán rasped, and he tugged gently at the silks. “I’ll be even more pleased when I can see beneath these.”

He turned Antonius around, so they were chest to back, his hand drifting down to the edge of the shift. “I want to do everything to you, but for now, I need to be in you.”

He could feel the doe’s tail wagging against his crotch, the sign that his body was ready and Stíofán groaned. The doe shifted slightly, and his curly locks brushed Stíofán’s nipples, the sensation against his bare chest just pushing him higher. 

“You can-- I’m ready--,” the doe whined, as Stíofán pressed the heel of his hand firmly against the front of the shift. “Yes, _please_.”

And that was nice, really nice. Stíofán let himself thrust against the tight rear a couple of times, grunted as he did. He was getting too worked up, and if he wanted to mount the way he’d planned he needed to move past the warm-up.

He walked them to the pallet, pushing the doe forward onto his hand and knees, and feeling the arousal ramp up, as he watched him instinctively arch his back, presenting himself to Stíofán. “That’s it, like that.”

Antonius looked over his shoulder, the cute horns and dark eyes were bright under the glow of the candles that lit Stíofán’s room. He could hear the sounds of the others returning to their cells, and it pushed him to get on with it, lest any of them think of coming to take this gorgeous creature from him. 

He flipped the shift up, revealing the plump cheeks Stíofán had known were hidden away and the bright fluffy tail that wagged as he looked his fill. Stíofán’s cock was throbbing as he felt below the tail for the hot, wet entrance he knew would be there. It was tight, virgin tight, but so slippery with slick, and he shoved two fingers in, enjoying the squeeze of the internal walls, as the doe clenched around them. He was big, he knew that, had seen plenty of the other satyrs when they trained and fought. It would be a lot to take. That thought made his cock twitch.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He shoved in, sheathing himself in one push, making the doe gasp. He ran a hand over Antonius’ back to calm him, giving him a moment to adjust as he savoured the feeling around his dick. It was the closest thing to heaven Stíofán had ever experienced. 

When he could wait no longer, he started to thrust, slow and steady, the warm fleece so soft beneath his hands, heightening the pleasure. 

“That’s it, yeah, take it,” he growled, enjoying the soft gasps the doe made with each push in. “I’m glad I won you. You would’ve made a fine lay for the sailors down at the port, but you were made for me, weren’t you?”

The doe nodded, and Stíofán gave a strong thrust just to hear him moan. Stíofán reached down to push at Antonius’ knees to widen his stance and let him deeper. It was a stretch - Antonius was smaller than him, making it a strain to spread around Stíofán’s hips, and Stíofán liked it, the feeling of power that came with it. 

He liked it too that Stíofán was uncovered, but Antonius was still wearing the shift, as if still pure even as Stíofán took that innocence from him. “I bet you imagined yourself some senator’s bride, hmmm? Laying on a couch, partying every evening, your every whim catered to. Instead, I’ll be between you legs, taking my pleasure, morning and night. My live-in whore.”

The doe whined at that, though Stíofán couldn’t tell if the thought was pleasing or shocking. “I can’t wait to have you suck me, those pretty lips brushing over my dick, it’ll be incredible.”

He picked up the pace, shoving his hips against the furred behind. The tail flicked in his vision and he reached down, grasping it in his hand and tugging on it. Antonius yelped.

“Too much?” Though he didn’t let go. He grasped it tighter and jerked it. 

“No!” The doe yowled pushing back, and Stíofán grunted, starting to fuck harder. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he breathed. His other hand flailed until he could grasp one of Antonius’ horns, pulling until the doe’s head was back, making his body tense and giving Stíofán more leverage. He released the tail so he could grab the other horn, and he put his back into it. He was slamming into the faun, Antonius making loud ‘ungh’ sounds with each push in, and Stíofán could feel himself getting closer and closer. 

“Bleat for me,” Stíofán growled. “Come on, bleat. Let everyone hear you, tell them you’re mine. Bleat!”

Antonius tried to shake his head, whining, but Stíofán held his head in place. “Let me hear it. Bleat!”

He punctuated the command with a particularly hard thrust.

“Baaaaaaa,” Antonius bleated, the sound rushing out in a gasp, and Stíofán’s chest roared with triumph. 

“Again!”

“Baaa-aaa-aaaa!”

“That’s it, fuck, you’re so gorgeous, yes, yes, yes--” Stíofán kept up the speed, until he felt his pleasure crest, pumping the doe full of his essence. There was a lot, it had been a long time since Stíofán had been able to _till a field_ and he collapsed forward, Antonius huffing beneath his weight as his strength, which had been so prominent since the fight, left him. 

He panted, the cool air on his body making his fleece ruffle. He rolled to the side, on his back, the doe now lying flat, as his arms gave way, and tried to regain his breath. 

Now that the need was gone, he felt a little embarrassed. He’d said many things, but had only thought them in the heat of passion. Now it felt as though the doe might think him callous now that they were no longer joined. 

He got to his hooves, wetting the rag once more and offering it to the doe who looked up at him with those dark eyes. “Clean yourself. I’ll fetch our meal.”

He slid a tunic over his head and then he left, slipping out the door. He got a lot of jealous looks as he went, and he couldn’t help but puff out his chest. Obviously, they’d heard loud and clear that Antonius was his. He returned to the room, two hearty bowls of mash and more wine in his hands.

The doe was curled up on the palate, waiting patiently, his shift back in place. Stíofán a little twinge of arousal at the idea that he was back to looking so demure given what they had just done, but it was too early for anything further yet. Stíofán sat down beside him, handing him the bowl. “Here, I bet you’re hungry.”

That had turned out to be an understatement. Antonius had scoffed the bowl back before Stíofán had taken even a few mouthfuls, and in the end, he’d eaten just half his own before passing the rest to the doe.

“They not feed you at the Stables?”

Antonius hummed. “They do, though they like to keep us thin, so we don’t look greedy to potential matches. ‘Better to become fat as a matron, not a maiden’.”

Well, that was no good. Stíofán made a note to ask for extra mash, get the doe fattened up some. “Well, we’ll fix that. Also, I feel we should-- I mean, you know we cannot be married in the eyes of the law?”

Antonius looked at him curiously, and Stíofán felt compelled to explain. “I’m a slave, not a citizen.”

“As am I,” Antonius told him. “You think they could send citizens to become whores? My family sold me to the Stables. I understand we are married only in spirit.”

He looked disappointed and Stíofán wanted to alleviate it. “Well, there’re three meals a day, so you’ll be well fed. I’m sure we can talk to the _lanista_ about finding you something to keep you occupied.”

Antonius sipped his wine with a nod. “Seems like a busy life. You must love being a gladiator.”

Stíofán snorted. “Hardly. I’m getting out of here. I’m going to buy my freedom and go home.”

“Home?”

“ _Īweriū._ North of Britannia.” 

“Were you born there?”

And so Stíofán found himself telling Antonius the whole story. How he’d left his Ma to take goods to trade to Londinium with his best friend Bucky. How Bucky had gone back to the room they’d rented but Stíofán had stayed hoping to win another _sestertius_ in a game of dice. How he’d woken up on a boat in chains, and been sold at a market in Rome to the _Ludus_. 

“When I get enough, I’m gone.”

Antonius was quiet for a moment, swishing the wine in his clay cup. “What happens to me then?”

And huh. Stíofán hadn’t really thought of that. He could never afford two.

“Oh, ummm--”

“Don’t worry about it, I get it. I’ll work something else out.” 

Stíofán didn’t like the sound of that. What if Antonius started eying up other Bucks in the yard? Seducing them with his doe eyes and soft curls, and well-trimmed beard.

Antonius must’ve noticed his discomfort because he gave him a smile. “Really, don’t worry. I was expecting much worse than this. Selling my body by the port, or at worst being stuck with that behemoth Ivor or one of those old, ugly bucks here. Doing this with you isn’t when the buck in question is a looker.”

Stíofán looked at him. “You like the way I look?”

“Very handsome. It’s why I caught your eye back at the pens.” Antonius looked away, his cheek tinted pink.

Stíofán looked Antonius over. “It was much the same for me. Loveliest thing I’d ever seen. Worth more to me to have you than the money I could’ve earned.”

Antonius blinked. “Oh. That’s--wow.” He flushed a very pretty pink.

Stíofán realised they hadn’t even kissed and decided to remedy that. He leaned in, giving Antonius time to realise what was happening, and pressed his lips to the doe’s.

They were soft, well cared for. Stíofán knew his own would feel rough by comparison, the skin dry and tanned by the sun. He wrapped his hand around the back of Antonius’ neck, feeling him shiver as he deepened the kiss. This was nice, Stíofán thought. Nice to have a touch that wasn’t a whip or the slash of a sword, or a hit during training. It felt intimate, in a way their coupling hadn’t. The doe seemed to like it, making an inquisitive sound as his tongue came to brush over Stíofán’s. Stíofán let him in, letting his other hand drift up and down Antonius’ arm. He deepened the kiss, feeling a thrill when Antonius’ moaned quietly into it, pleased the other enjoyed it as much as he did. The feeling relit the fires of his arousal, which surprised him. He had not been this easily riled since he’d been on the brink of manhood, but now he was raring to go. 

They kissed a little longer, Stíofán encouraging Antonius to explore. He shivered as soft hands drifted over his chest and his shoulders, coming up to rub over his pointed ears and horns. He was getting lost in the feeling when the hands pulled away, and he blinked, coming back to himself. 

The doe looked up at him, gaze heated. “I believe there was something else you said you’d like,” Antonius said, and then his head was dipping down to Stíofán’s lap and --- oooh yes. 

A warm wet mouth dragged along his cock, the heat and soft slide almost indescribable. It felt as though all the sensation in his body was locked onto one single point, and as the doe bobbed his head, the pressure moved along every inch. 

“I knew you’d be good at it,” Stíofán sighed, resting a hand in the thick hair. “Give it a good suck, yeah that’s--oh that’s good, _ungh_!”

Antonius seemed to fall into the rhythm, dragging and sucking, hot and tight and Stíofán couldn’t do much more than grunt. “Use your hands, come on sweetheart.”

A tentative hand cupped his balls, scritching through the fur, and it heightened the feeling even more. He gripped the hair in his hand tight, using it to hold the doe in place as he began to thrust. 

“If it gets too much,” he grunted, as sparks of pleasure danced all along his body. “Hit my leg.”

The doe nodded, and Stíofán went for it, pushing in long and deep, enjoying the suction on the withdrawal. He was getting closer and closer, but he wanted to claim Antonius again, mount him. He pulled him off and he almost reached the peak, breathing hard, his cock wet and straining. 

The doe sucked in air, looking surprised, but Stíofán tugged at him. “Straddle me, I want inside that sweet ass of yours.”

Antonius groaned and swung a hock over, and Stíofán was pleased to see the doe’s own cock erect. He liked servicing Stíofán, it aroused him. 

That made Stíofán happy. He wanted the doe to like him, to want him like he wanted the faun. 

Antonius wiggled in his lap, rising and dropping down so that Stíofán slid deep inside. Stíofán’s eyes nearly crossed, the tight grip clamping down when he was so close to the mark. 

He grabbed Antonius by the hips to keep him still, the faun whining in his ear. “I need to move, please.”

“Ok,” he moaned, loosening his hold. “Ride me.”

The doe nodded, bouncing up and down, letting out little moans as he did. It was beautiful to watch, but Stíofán wanted more.

“These,” he said, grabbing at the silk. “Off, I want to see, please.”

Antonius nodded, not even pausing in his rhythm as he undid the clasp, removing the covering and baring warm, soft skin to Stíofán hands. “Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.”

He rubbed his thumbs over the line where skin met fur, brushing over the whorls there.

“You’re doing good, so good.”

“It’s so much,” Antonius moaned, rising up and down faster. Stíofán wondered if his tail was wagging. He hoped it was. 

He was so caught up in the pleasure that he didn’t notice for a moment what had happened. Antonius abruptly stopped bouncing, body stiffening. His eyes unfocused, and when Stíofán thrust up, still caught in their pattern, Antonius tipped sideways, falling off Stíofán’s dick and onto the floor.

“Shit!” Stíofán yelped, rolling to his hooves. He reached out to give Antonius a shake.

It only lasted a moment, and Antonius was blinking up at him.

“Ok, that’s the second time you’ve done that. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, I just—“

“It’s not nothing. You’ve fainted twice in an hour. Tell me what’s happening.”

Antonius looked defiant but then sighed. “I’m an Aquileian Fainting Satyr.”

“A what?”

Antonius huffed. “An Aquileian Fainting Satyr. It’s a common condition amongst the tribes of Aquileia. Well, actually that’s how it’s described, but we don’t really faint, just kind of go stiff and flop over for a moment and then we’re fine.” He shrugged. “It skipped a generation in my family, so when they realised I had it, they figured I’d have a better chance at the Stables. When the Stables realised, they figured I’d make them more money as a prize for a gladiator or a whore. No senator or general wants a bride who topples over at the drop of a hat.”

Stíofán could see the sense in that. Wouldn’t do for a matron to embarrass their alpha during an important meal or at the baths. But well, for Stíofán it was hardly more than an odd novelty. 

“That’s really something. I’ve never seen that before.”

“Yes, well, you wouldn’t have much cause to. And it only happens sometimes, when I’m stressed or surprised. But forget it, it’s not a big deal, I’m used to it. Now, where were we?”

“To be honest, it sort of threw me out of the mood,” Stíofán admitted, gesturing to his now flaccid cock. “It was strange to see.”

Antonius sighed. “Well, you’d better get used to it. Happens pretty regularly.”

“Right,” Stíofán offered, still feeling a little bewildered. “Maybe we could wrap your head in padding or something so you don’t keep knocking it on the floor.”

Antonius stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. “I’m glad you care so much about my charming personality.”

“Well, I don’t know much about you yet, I’d hate to lose the chance.”

That made Antonius’ laughter peter off, face taking on an odd expression. “Really?”

Stíofán nodded. “Yes. I know we can’t be married, not by Rome’s law, but I think of us that way. I’d like for us to be like that.” He felt a little embarrassed now. “I know I said some things when we were coupling, but that’s just talk in the moment. I’d like to get to know you too.”

The doe looked surprised but nodded. “Ok. In which case, maybe you could start by calling me Tony? It’s what my family used to call me.”

Stíofán nodded with a smile which Tony returned. They sat staring for a moment before Tony shivered, and Stíofán realised he was probably not as warm as he’d been. He grabbed the blanket from his pallet and wrapped it around the faun, pleased when it got him a grateful smile.

“So please, tell me about yourself?”

So Tony did. He told Stíofán about growing up in Aquleina. He came from a wealthy, old family in the area, who had hoped to make a strong political marriage of Tony to one of the magistrates, but his condition had made itself known, word had spread quickly, and Tony’s parents had made a choice they thought would best help his future. He didn’t seem to blame them which was odd and Stíofán queried it.

“They didn’t know,” Tony shrugged, ears drooping. “The Stables all but promise matches, you only become a slave if your costs can not be regained in a dowry, which they always advertise outside of Rome as uncommon. When the Stables realised my little problem, they opted to save themselves the _sestertii_.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Stíofán said, placing his hand over Tony’s, and the doe gave him a weak smile.

“Thanks. I’m sorry you were kidnapped.”

“Yeah me too,” Stíofán said, and they both chuckled, both seemingly taken by the absurdity of it.

It was starting to get late, the sounds of revelry starting in the courtyard as the others celebrated the end of the games with wine and song. Tired, and not wanting to take Tony out for the first time while everyone was in such high spirits, Stíofán suggested they sleep.

He lay down on his pallet, watching as Tony washed his face with water and then curled up alongside him. He figured he would go without a blanket, though a chill was settling in. Instead, Tony flicked the blanket out and covered them both, moving so his back was flush with Stíofán’s. It was warm and intimate, and Stíofán fell asleep quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

They were woken early by a hammering on the door.

“Stíofán! Up, you and the whore. Fury says he’s to help in the kitchens, and they’re preparing the morning meal.”

Stíofán groaned. If they were still preparing it was very early. He gave Tony a nudge. “We have to get up.”

“Noooo,” the doe complained, rolling over and hiding his face. “Tired.”

“Come,” Stíofán said, sitting up. “If we don’t you will make the _lanista_ angry. Fury is a fair man, but he does not suffer disobedience.”

“Fine,” the doe groaned. He sat up, the blankets falling to show two dusky nipples, and Stíofán found his eyes drawn to them.

Tony noticed his interest and rolled his eyes. “I thought you said we had to hurry, _hoplomachus_.” He stretched, a glint in his eyes and Stíofán had the distinct feeling he was being teased. “Apparently I must labour in the kitchens.” He looked at his silks upon the floor. “These will be hell to clean.”

Stíofán pushed himself up. “Don’t wear those.” He walked to his chest, pulling out an old tunic that was too tight for him now. “This should fit.”

Tony pulled on the worn linen, grabbing one of the ties from his silks to cinch the waist. It was a little short, but not immodest.

But more importantly, Stíofán found he liked the look of Tony in his clothes. A lot.

“Gods gladiators are horny,” Tony complained, catching Stíofán’s appreciation. He clapped his hands. “You said we shouldn’t waste time.”

Stíofán pulled on a clean _subligaculum_ , which brushed over his interested cock. He hissed as he wrapped the cloth around his hips and pulled on a tunic. He wiggled his tail through the hole in the back, aware of Tony’s gaze on him.

“You clean up well,” Tony said, looking him over. “More civilised.”

Stíofán snorted. “Best hold your tongue, or I might be tempted to show you just what a beast I am. You know they call my people savages don’t you?”

“You--”

The door swung open to reveal Hammer looking impatient. “Stíofán! Let’s go!”

Stíofán followed the order, shepherding Tony through the door. He glared at Hammer’s inspection of his mate, moving to block his view. They went to the kitchen, where Stíofán introduced Tony to the does who made the food. They seemed wary, no doubt having heard where he’d come from, but put him to work. Stíofán took a seat at one of the long tables they ate at, waiting for his morning meal.

Eventually, the hall began to fill with the other gladiators. Many of them took seats at the same table as Stíofán. Most of them were fine, and Stíofán got on with them well, but a couple had always rubbed him the wrong way, and he knew they resented him for working so hard to earn money, sometimes at their expense. 

“Sounds like you had a good night Stíofán,” Tiberius said, as they waited for their meal. 

“I don’t see how that has anything to do with you,” Stíofán offered, his eyes already drawn over Tiberius’ shoulder, where Tony was carrying a tray of steaming bowls. He swallowed a growl as he watched some of the other gladiators give the doe heated glances, but everyone kept their hands to themselves, and did nothing more than say a polite ‘thanks’. 

“I think we’re all just a little surprised that such a prize went to someone so new to the _Ludus_.”

“Two years is hardly new,” Stíofán shot back. “I’ve shed more blood in the arena than you, and you’ve been here five.”

Tiberius scowled. “That’s simply because Fury knows my worth. He would not risk me being used for anything but the most prestigious fights.”

Stíofán snorted. “If you say so.”

Tiberius opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut when a bowl of mush was placed in front of him. 

Both he and Tiberius looked up to see Tony standing there, placing the last of the bowls out. “Your breakfast. Should still be hot.”

Stíofán took his own bowl, his fingers brushing Tony’s and he smiled at the doe. “Thank you.”

Tony smiled at him. “You’re welcome.” He grabbed the last bowl from the tray. “Livia in the kitchen said I could eat mine with you.”

“Of course,” Tiberius leered, sliding over to leave space beside him. “Such a lovely creature is always welcome.”

Tony hesitated, looking uncomfortable, and Stíofán stood, taking his hand and leading him around to his side of the table. He sat back down, widening his legs and tugging the doe to sit on his lap. “I’m glad you could join us.” 

Tiberius gave him a look, but Stíofán simply smiled. Tony relaxed against him, and Stíofán wrapped one arm around his waist to brace him. “What do we have this morning?”

Tony snorted. “A tasty mush, though I was allowed to add a little fig to yours. Fury was impressed with your fight.”

That was a rare treat. Stíofán noticed that Tony’s own bowl was plain. “None for you?”

Tony shook his head. Well, that wouldn’t do. Stíofán scooped some of the figs with his spoon, dropping it into Tony’s own bowl. “Have some.”

Tony put a spoonful to his mouth. “Mmmmm, sweet,” he hummed around the spoon and Stíofán found his gaze drawn to the doe’s lips. 

“This is insufferable,” Tiberius growled. “Not only does Stíofán get his own whore, but I have to see it while I eat this flavourless crap.”

“Call him that again,” Stíofán said, not looking away from Tony. “And I’ll shove that bowl up your ass.”

Tony snorted, his hands covering his face, and Stíofán found himself charmed as he watched him turn red with laughter, the sound muffled. 

Tiberius jumped to his hooves, fuming, and stormed off clutching his bowl to his chest, while the other guys laughed at his retreating back. 

“So what do you do all day?” Tony asked, scarfing down his bowl. 

“We have training most of the day, then time spent with the doctor to check our health, then the evening meal. Then those of us who have been here a year or more are allowed to spend some time in the meal room before bed.” He rubbed his hand gently over Tony's lower back. “Not every _Ludus_ allows it, but Fury says happy gladiators have more to fight for. Put on a better show.”

Tony put his empty bowl on the table. “Eat up then. You’ll need your strength.”

Stíofán jostled his leg, making Tony yelp before Stíofán caught him. “Think I’ve got all the strength I need.”

Tony whacked him on the shoulder. “Bucks, honestly.”

Stíofán grinned but ate his food obediently. Soon the call came for them to head out into the training ground, and Stíofán walked Tony to the kitchens.

“Stay out of trouble,” Stíofán said, rubbing his thumb over Tony’s hand. “The does in the kitchen should take care of you but if there’s any trouble come find me.”

Tony nodded. “I will.”

“See you later.”

Stíofán made his way to the grounds feeling less enthusiastic than usual. He wanted to stay. Make Tony laugh some more. Or spend the day working together. As it often did, the image of his home filled his mind. The woodsmoke on the air, the soothing bustle of the village that was so unlike the frantic noise of Rome, the green of the pastures and the safety of the village walls. His mother outside the house, Bucky waving as he walked by. Perhaps he’d be married by now, living in his own stone house. For a moment, his mind placed Tony there. Tony helping his ma with the garden, or cooking over the fire as Stíofán came in from tending to the crops. He felt suddenly so homesick it was almost a physical pain. He blinked quickly to keep the tears back and stepped into lines with the others. 

One day he’d see it again. One day he’d be home. 

* * *

He and Tony only grew closer as time wore on. 

Tony seemed to thrive with work to be done, making friends easily in the kitchens and always making sure Stíofán was given the best of the offerings. 

Barely two days since his arrival, and Stíofán had gone to kitchens to fetch him, only to find that Tony had apparently built a way for hot water to be delivered to the kitchen instead of having to fetch it from the large vat outside, and made the water hot faster. Tony had given him a defiant look, but Stíofán had just barked a surprised laugh, getting the doe to explain what he’d done. Clearly, Stíofán hadn’t just landed himself some pretty thing to look at. His mate was smart.

Generally, Stíofán was happier too. He felt less alone with Tony sharing his room, always there to speak to and sleep alongside. And well, to say nothing of their nightly activities, which Stíofán took to with gusto, like a starving man to food. 

“Oh Stíofán, oh!” Tony moaned as Stíofán rutted between his furred thighs. 

On his back had soon become amongst Stíofán’s favourite ways to mate, the doe’s face as Stíofán moved inside him was almost breathtaking.

Stíofán grunted as the passage tightened around him, always so slick and warm. Truly no buck could be luckier than him. “That’s it. Let me feel that tail wag, sweet thing.”

The soft, fluffy tail began to move, tickling him beneath his cock like feathers. He groaned at the sensation, making him thrust harder.

He’d learned that attention paid to the doe’s own cock made him cry out with the most gorgeous sounds, bleats and whimpers, and with enough effort was sure to make him spill and go limp. Stíofán loved how he looked after, as though Stíofán had worn him out. 

He liked to wait though, draw it out and let it build. He ran his hands over the trembling flanks, leaning down to kiss those soft lips, happy when he was welcomed, the doe returning the kiss eagerly, the soft whimpers muffled as he continued to move. 

For all he’d decided to win a bride purely out of lust, that was no longer the case, he could admit that.

Although they coupled often, some nights they did nothing at all. Instead, they would lie on the pallet, and Stíofán would tell Tony stories from his home. Grand tales of magic and warriors, or simple stories, like the time he and Buck had accidentally let the livestock free and been forced to chase them across the fields.

Tony enjoyed them, confiding to Stíofán that he had never seen much outside his parents’ house or the Stables. Kept locked away to ensure he’d be primed for marriage. It made Stíofán sad. He may be locked up now, but he’d been free, and when he had, he’d been happy.

But it seemed Tony had been a kind of slave long before he was sold. 

“One day I want to see more,” Tony said as they lay together, his head resting on Stíofán’s chest. “Have a life outside high walls. I’ve only known the cities, never quiet. But your home, your life before, seems so peaceful.”

“It was,” Stíofán said, not for the first time lamenting over leaving. 

“Maybe I’ll see it someday,” Tony said, though the tone implied he thought it was just wishful thinking.

“Maybe,” Stíofán agreed, though he didn’t offer anything more. It had become clear in his mind that there was no way he would leave Rome without Tony. He had fallen in love with a bright spark, and leaving him here to be extinguished was too horrible a thought to even be entertained. But he was still to discover a way to do so. 

The easiest would be to simply extend his time in the _Ludus_. Eventually, he could earn enough for them both, though it would take a long time and a lot of luck, if it could happen at all. It began to plague his mind though he never spoke of it to Tony. He couldn’t bear to get his hopes up or disappoint him if it didn’t work out. 

He was thinking about it as he walked towards the kitchens early one evening. There had been an announcement of a large games in the summer, to celebrate the emperor’s birthday. It would mean rich rewards if he fought well, which was good, though the most enticing offer had been boon from the emperor himself to any man willing to fight to take on a great challenge. It was a risk. The prize might be offered in earnest, but men in power did not like to lose. It’s possible the tasks were made to be unwinnable. Stíofán had considered it, but it was too dangerous he’d decided. For now, there was no reason they couldn’t wait, play it safe until another option made itself known. 

He was still mulling it over as he got close the entranceway before he became aware of voices.

“I’ll pay you two _asses_ , that’s more than fair.”

“If Stíofán catches you here…” That was Tony, sounding nervous. 

“Pfffft, Stíofán,” the first voice said, and Stíofán could recognise it now as Tiberius. The other Buck had been making comments often, whenever he thought Stíofán was out of earshot about how unfair it was that he’d been the one to win Tony, how if anyone deserved it was him. He spent a lot of time looking at the doe during meal times too, but so far it had been envy, nothing more overt. Until now it would seem.

“Stíofán doesn’t need to know. You let me wet my wick behind the kitchen wall and I’ll pay you well.” His voice went low and coaxing. “Everyone knows Stíofán wants to get out, what will you have when he’s gone? Surely earning a few coins on your knees wouldn’t do any harm?”

Realisation swept through Stíofán like a wave, anger roaring up from deep inside him. How dare Tiberius go anywhere near him. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was prompted by the defeat Stíofán had dealt him during their training fight that morning.

“No,” the doe said, and Stíofán felt his breath catch. “I won’t. Now leave. Stíofán will be here soon.”

“Look you little bitch— oh fuck!”

There was a thud and Stíofán felt his heart clench as he turned the corner. 

He took in the scene quickly. Tony on the floor, Tiberius standing over him looking terrified. His eyes flitted up as Stíofán entered, the blood draining from his face. “I didn’t even touch him, I swear!”

“He looks dead,” Stíofán said, letting some of the rage from earlier deep into his voice. He dipped his head, ready to charge. 

Tiberius looked like he was pissing himself. “No! He can’t— I didn’t—“ he took one more look at Tony before he made a run for it, having to pass Stíofán to get out. As he did Stíofán kicked him, sending him sprawling painfully to the ground. He grunted but scrambled to his feet and was gone. 

Stíofán watched him go, anger still bubbling, but left it. Instead, he knelt down brushing a hand over Tony’s horns. “You think that’ll teach him?”

Tony blinked and snorted. “I’ll say. I thought _he_ might faint when he saw you. You looked like you might tear him apart.” 

Stíofán was pleased that the doe didn’t sound afraid, that even though he had to reek of aggression, Tony was leaning into his hand. “I might’ve done if he’d pressed his luck with you.”

“Are you going to press your luck with me?” Tony asked, voice going low. “Smells like you need it.”

Stíofán felt a twitch below the belt at the tone, almost an automatic response by now, and realised he did. There was a pulse under his skin that demanded he restate his claim. “I could.”

He helped Tony to his feet, letting the doe take him by the hand and lead him behind the kitchens, hidden mostly from sight. He pushed Tony up against the wall, his hands already wrapping around those hips that were becoming softer by the day. He undid the knot of his wrappings, pulling out his cock, and pushed up the back of Tony’s shift. The round, furred buttocks looked so plush and inviting. He’d never get tired of that sight.

Tony sighed as he pushed in, ready for him, the slide smooth and easy. The doe groaned pleasingly at being filled, and it made Stíofán feel powerful. He began to thrust in and out, pressing himself right along Tony’s back, their fur mingling as their legs rubbed together. They looked good together, Stíofán thought idly. His pale gold against Tony’s black and white. 

It was quick, both of them already worked up.

Tony was moaning, already lost in it as Stíofán reached down to stroke him. The doe gasp at the touch, pushing his hips forward into Stíofán’s hand.

“You sure he was dead?” Rumlow’s voice carried on the breeze. “Because if you killed his doe, then no one will blame him when he strangles you in your sleep.”

“I didn’t do anything! He was standing there and then he was on the ground,” Tiberius hissed frantically. 

“Well, it looks like whatever happened they aren’t here.”

“Wait, what’s that sound?”

He could hear their footsteps approaching and he knew he should stop before they got there. But as he started to pull away, Tony reached back and grabbed his tunic holding him in place. “Harder, please!”

Unable to turn down a request from him, Stíofán drove back in, harder and faster. The sounds of his hips slapping against Tony’s had to be audible to them by now, but they rounded the corner anyway, both surprised by what they saw. Stíofán reached around to wrap his hand around Tony’s cock even as he kept eye contact with the two bucks. 

“Baaaaaaaaa!” Tony cried, loud and desperate and Stíofán fucked him harder wanting that sweet bleat again.

“Ba-ah-ah-ahhhhhhhh!” Tony howled, each thrust seeming to knock the air out of him. Stíofán forced him onto the tip of his hooves, liking the way it held him in place. 

Suddenly Stíofán wanted the interlopers gone. Seeing him stake a claim was one thing, but seeing Tony fall apart was just for him.

“Get out,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “And if you come near him again, I’ll make you a _castrātus.”_

Tiberius looked as though he might be ill, and grabbed Rumlow’s sleeve to drag him away. Once they were gone, Stíofán got to work, stroking and tugging the doe’s cock. 

With each jerk, Tiny tightened around him, winding him higher and higher until he shoved in deep spending himself inside. He shuddered through it. “I love you,” he said, unable to help it, and Tony stiffened.

For a moment Stíofán thought he’d made a mistake, that Tony would tell him they were convenient but nothing more. But instead, the doe nodded, head bobbing frantically. “Me too. I love you too.”

Stíofán felt as though his heart might explode and he clutched Tony to him, pressing kisses along his hair and pointed ears. 

“I love you,” the doe said again and Stíofán knew he would never tire of it. “But if you do not finish what you started, you’ll sleep alone on the hard floor tonight!”

Stíofán huffed a laugh and placed a last apologetic kiss to his cheek before he started working Tony with his hand again. 

Tony sighed happily, soft moans from his lips. But Stíofán wanted more. He wanted Tony to see heaven itself. A thought flashed into his head, of a conversation he’d overheard once between two bucks, both of them speaking of what they preferred when they spent the night with a faun. One of them had waxed poetical about the taste, how you could spread your tongue through the slick and make a doe whimper.

Stíofán decided to take a chance, dropping to his knees his hand holding steady in its movements. Tony seemed none the wiser, too caught up in the feeling, and so Stíofán looked his fill, seeing where the slick and his own spend covered that pretty entrance. He leaned forward, brushed his tongue against it. 

Tony squeaked, head-turning urgently to stare as Stíofán went back for a second lick. The slick had an intoxicating flavour, and he began to kiss at the puckered skin as though it were lips. 

“What are you doing, you —- _ooooooooh, ahhhhhhh,”_ Tony managed, resting his face against the wooden wall _._ “That feels—- baaaaaaaaaa!”

Stíofán smirked. “Baaaaa-ad? Should I stop?”

Tony scowled at him. “Don’t you dare!”

Stíofán upped the speed of his hand, burying his face between the furred cheeks and trying his utmost to drive the doe wild. 

It seemed to work, Tony’s hands uselessly trying to grab the wall to keep him upright as he cried out. 

Stíofán stroked faster and licked deeper, until the doe spilled onto the wall, panting and gasping as his knees gave way. Stíofán caught him, tugging him down in his arms and holding him as he shivered.

“I liked that,” Tony managed after a little time to recover. “We should do that again.”

He let Stíofán set him to rights, tidying his shift and making him look presentable. “We can do it whenever you want.”

Tony nestled into his arms for a moment, and then pulled back. “Let’s find some water for clean up, then I need to sleep. It was hot in the kitchens all day, made me tired.”

Stíofán nodded and pushed himself to his hooves. He helped Tony up, brushing a curl behind his horn. “I meant what I said. I love you.”

The doe smiled and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I love you too.” He slipped a hand around Stíofán’s arm and pointed. “Wash and bed, let’s go.”

“Yes sir.”

* * *

As the seasons changed, training got harder. They needed to be ready to put on a good show and Fury was putting them through their paces. Stíofán wandered back after a long day of training to the kitchens for dinner but frowned when he didn’t find Tony there. He ate his portion quickly, before heading to their room. He opened the door to find Tony curled up on their pallet, looking pale.

“Are you ok?” He asked, kneeling down beside him. Even his tail looked sad. 

“Not feeling well,” Tony managed, eyes closed. “I threw up my last meal, couldn’t keep it down.”

Stíofán frowned. “Do you want me to fetch you something to eat?”

Tony shook his head. “No. I can’t. Even the idea is…” he curled up tighter.

“Ok, ok. No food.” Stíofán felt at a loss for what to do, but the doe’s shiver made the decision for him. He lay down behind him, pulling him close and wrapping an arm around his middle. 

Tony sighed, burrowing into the warmth, and Stíofán pulled the blanket over them. Eventually, he fell asleep to Tony’s soft breathing, hoping he’d be better tomorrow.

He awoke instead to a retching noise and sat up to find Tony bent over their water bowl, heaving up very little since he hadn’t had dinner. Stíofán moved quickly helping back to bed and taking the bowl out to the yard. He cleaned it out and refilled it with cool water. 

When he came back he offered some to Tony who drank slowly. “Do you think you ate something bad?”

Tony shook his head. “I eat the same as you, and you’re fine.”

“It’s still early, try and sleep a bit longer. Maybe you’ll feel up to something to eat after.” 

They managed a few more hours until the call came for wake up. Tony seemed better, helping in the kitchens and eating his breakfast as normal. The colour was back in his cheeks and he chattered to Stíofán, giving him a kiss when he left for training. 

Everything was fine when they went to bed too. 

Until Stíofán woke up to retching. 

It continued, and Tony didn’t seem to be getting better. Stíofán started to fret, wondering about fetching the doctor but when he suggested it, Tony shook his head. 

“No. No doctor.”

“Why? You’re ill. You’ve been ill for two weeks.” Already his cheeks were getting more prominent, the weight he’d been putting on starting to slip away. 

“It’s nothing, it’ll pass.”

“You don’t know that! It could get worse, you could--” Stíofán swallowed. He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t face the idea that he might wake up and Tony wouldn’t be here with him.

Tony nuzzled his chest. “Hey, hey, don’t make that face, it’ll be ok.”

“I just-- it could be anything, and you--”

Tony looked at him again and sighed. “I know what it is.”

“What? How?”

Tony reached out and took his hand, resting it on his stomach. “Trust me.”

It took Stíofán a second before he felt himself tense with shock. “You’re..?”

Tony nodded. “At least two mating cycles. It’s the sickness that comes at the start, Livia in the kitchens is sure.”

A kid. His kid, his and Tony’s. And he should’ve seen this coming, it was an obvious outcome of their mating, but Stíofán honestly hadn’t. Now there was a little life inside Tony relying on Stíofán to provide for it, and…

He didn’t realise there were tears running down his cheeks until Tony reached up to wipe them away. 

“Are these happy tears or sad ones?” He asked, his tone light, but Stíofán could see it was a serious question. 

“Happy, definitely happy,” Stíofán rumbled - it was hard to get the words out. “I didn’t expect...but it’s good, it’s-- it’s everything I ever wanted.”

Tony’s smile bloomed wide, and he pulled Stíofán to him for a kiss. Stíofán returned it in full, his hand smoothing over Tony’s belly, unable to stop touching. 

But a kid presented a new problem. Because Stíofán still didn’t have the money to get them out. 

There was only one way now. 

He pulled back, resting his forehead against Tony’s. “I’ll accept the Emperor’s challenge.”

Tony’s stiffened, the happy expression gone in an instant. “No.”

“I have to, there’s not another option.”

“There’s always another option! We have time, we can plan.”

“Not before the kid gets here. And once they’re here, they’ll be trapped just like us. Kids born to slaves become slaves. Our only chance is to get out before anyone notices you’re carrying.” He gestured around the room. “I don’t want this for them.”

Tony still looked angry. “This is why I didn't want to tell you! Because I knew you’d get that stupid, stubborn look on your face and do something foolish. You dying in that impossible challenge will do nothing except hurt me and leave your kid without a sire.”

“It’s not impossible. I can do it. I will, for you, and for them. Our kid will be born free in my homeland, Tony I swear it.”

“No,” Tony managed, moving swiftly from anger to distress. “Stíofán you can’t.”

Stíofán knew what was coming, and so reached out pulling Tony close before it happened. He felt Tony go stiff in his arms, his weight completely against him and stroked his hair for a moment before he shook it off, glaring up at Stíofán. “Look what you did.”

“I’m sorry, it’s the only way. I love you, and I’m going to do this for us.”

Tony still looked upset, but he snuggled into Stíofán anyway, letting himself be held. 

Stíofán closed his eyes and rested his head on top of Tony’s. His mind drifted, as it often did, to home. Only now, when he looked he saw Tony next to his Ma, a bundle in his arms. His kid would know happiness, and they would be loved beyond measure. 

Stíofán would see to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see you all giggling at a perfectly normal unit of currency. FOR SHAME.


	3. Chapter 3

He went to Fury in the morning, determined to get it done, in case Tony tried to change his mind. He could be very determined when he wanted to be.

“I wish to accept the Emperor’s challenge.”

“Oh really?” Fury asked, raising the eyebrow above his good eye. “Risky business. I thought you were taking the slow and steady route.”

“I’m tired of waiting.”

Fury hummed. “Well, you’re certainly welcome to do so. I’d appreciate it since no one else has and I don’t wish to be the only _Ludus_ that does not send a champion.”

Huh. That was something Stíofán could work with. “If I do, then I want to negotiate terms.”

“Negotiate?” Fury laughed. “What do you think you have to bargain?”

“You’ll get fame and money no matter which way it goes, and you know it. More, If I put on a good show and you know I will. If I die, I want Tony freed.”

“So I would lose two slaves. I’m yet to see the benefit to me.”

“If I win, you may take any riches I am awarded. I only want the wish the Emperor said he would grant.”

Fury nodded. “Which I assume would be freedom for you both.”

“Yes.”

“I see.” Fury folded his hands and rested his chin on them. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll agree to this, provided that if you do win, that part of your request asks for a better position for me. I have work, important work, that I’m doing, and if I were to become the Emperor’s _lanista_ , I could do that much more easily, do you understand?”

“You want access to him,” Stíofán surmised and Fury nodded. 

This could be dangerous. Fury was clearly involved in a plot of some kind, the head of it if Stíofán had to guess, and asking such a favour could put him and Tony at risk. 

But, he trusted Fury’s word. If he failed, Tony and the kid would be free, and he could leave them his saved coin and a letter for his Ma so she could take them in. 

He didn’t have any other choice. 

“Deal.”

“Then good luck Stíofán, you’ll need it.”

* * *

In the run-up to the games, Stíofán trained hard. 

He was up before everyone else each morning, hitting the yard and running through the motions for a good hour or two before a full day of practice combat. 

It was tiring, though Stíofán was feeling the effect. He was getting stronger, faster, and quickly becoming the best fighter in the _Ludus_ by a wide margin. 

Tony’s illness had also thankfully cleared up, and he was back eating well which made Stíofán feel better too, though he was growing more nervous as the games approached.

“There’s still time to say no,” Tony told him several times. “No one would blame you.”

“Won’t you?” Stíofán finally asked. “When you have to watch your kid eventually forced to fight or be sold off? What then?”

Tony had quietened for a moment, deep in thought and Stíofán had felt guilty for his outburst. He hadn’t told Tony about the other part of his deal with Fury. He had the feeling that if Tony knew what happened on his death the doe would complain. 

“Well,” Tony said finally. “If you insist on going through with this ridiculous idea, then I’m helping.”

“Helping?”

“I’m making you better armour. I’ve been watching the weapons maker, and I see his techniques. I can do the same.”

Stíofán’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Tony, you can’t just take up metalwork with no training, that’s insane.”

Tony glared at him. “I can do many things, and if you’re doing this, you better get used to being surprised. I have plans.”

Stíofán put his hands on his hips. “I’m not sure you should start messing with hot melted metal when you’re carrying.”

Tony’s expression darkened. “And I’m not sure you should be walking to your death for the sake of a dream, but here we are. So if you do this, you have to let me do my part.”

And what could Stíofán say to that? That because he was a buck, it was his place to make sure they were safe? He had a feeling that wouldn’t go down well. 

“You don’t have any experience with metalwork!”

“It can’t be that hard,” Tony sniffed. “You simply heat the right balance of metals, which you have to be careful with because some take longer to become liquid, you create moulds for the style you want---”

Stíofán found himself losing focus as Tony detailed how to make armour and swords, and wondered just how much time he’d spent watching the armour maker.

“Alright, alright,” Stíofán said, and Tony looked triumphant. “Fine, I get it. “

“Good,” Tony still looked smug and Stíofán decided that was enough.

“That’s enough out of you,” Stíofán told him, and scooped him up into his arms, making Tony squeal with laughter.

“Put me down you brute!” Tony managed, undermined by the snort he made when Stíofán jostled him.

“What was that? Down?” He pretended to drop him again, making Tony smack his shoulder. 

“This isn’t even difficult for you, is it?” He poked Stíofán’s arm muscles. “These have gotten ridiculous.”

Stíofán tried not to feel too proud. “They’re getting there.”

“We should sleep. You have training and I have to find time to create.”

“Tony,” Stíofán said, lowering them down to their mat and pulling up the blanket. “Don’t get into trouble, it’s not just you anymore.” He let his hand rest on Tony’s belly. “I don’t know what would happen if you got on someone’s bad side.”

“I’ll be careful,” Tony told him. “But if you’re going to do this for us, I’ll do my part too.”

“Ok,” Stíofán said, giving Tony a nuzzle. He tucked a leg over Tony’s, feeling warm when Tony clicked their hooves together. “Just a few more weeks. Then this’ll all be over.” One way or another. 

“A few more weeks,” Tony agreed, bringing his hand down to intertwine with Stíofán’s. 

* * *

The night before the games there was a great feast. 

This was common for games, a last meal in case of a fatality the next day. There was plenty of food and wine, and there were instruments provided for music. 

Stíofán made an effort to enjoy himself. Tomorrow might be his last day after all, why not indulge a bit. He found himself sitting on a few cushions, his arm around Tony as he sipped his wine. He was careful not to overdo it, he needed to be on form tomorrow, but he had a pleasant warmth in his body, and he was more prone to a laugh as the bucks around told jokes and stories. 

Tony stayed close, seemingly glued to his side, and Stíofán wasn’t complaining. He was still sipping his wine when Fury came over.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Stíofán nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Remember our deal,” the _lanista_ said, holding out a hand, and Stíofán took it grasping his forearm. 

“As long as you do too.”

“You got it. May Mars aid you.”

“I don’t ask for the blessings of Rome’s gods,” Stíofán shot back. “I have my own.”

“I wouldn’t shun any help if I were you, you could use all the luck you can get,” Fury told him. “But that’s enough for now, enjoy the festivities.”

“Goodnight sir.”

Stíofán moved the cup back to his mouth but Tony grabbed his wrist. “What deal?”

“What?”

“What deal? What deal did you make with Fury?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Stíofán waved, he tried to drink and Tony snatched the cup. “Hey!”

“Tell me about the deal.”

Stíofán huffed a sigh. “You don’t have to worry. Just, no matter what happens tomorrow, you’re going to be ok.”

Tony scowled. “But what does that mean?”

“Fury will free you, either way.”

Tony’s eyes went wide. “Either way, what do you-- even if you die, that’s what you did. You moron, is that why you agreed to do the challenge?” 

Stíofán looked at his wine, feeling a little less in good spirits. “It means I win, no matter the outcome. I have a letter for you, I paid for one of the scribes to write it. It tells you how to get to my village, and there’s a message for my ma, she’ll take you in.”

Tony was staring at him with something in his eyes Stíofán couldn’t identify. Then he punched Stíofán in the arm.

“Ow!”

“You dumb, self-sacrificing idiot!” Tony’s arms were flailing madly. “I don’t want to go without you, don’t you get it? I want us to stay together and I want you to meet your kid, not just be a story I tell him.”

“I want that too,” Stíofán told him, his voice rough. “And gods willing I will be. But I had to be sure. You’ll be safe, I can go into the arena knowing that.”

Tony huffed, then after a moment, swung a leg over Stíofán’s lap. “Take me to bed.” 

Stíofán was confused by the sudden change in topic, but Tony sitting snuggly against him was doing wonders. He slipped his hands under Tony’s thighs and lifted him up, pulling him tight against him as he stood.

He ignored the hollers around them and carried Tony back to their cell.

Tony was kissing him before the door closed, his hand wrapping around Stíofán’s horns to hold him in place. He was like a wild thing in Stíofán’s hold, writhing against him and seemingly trying to get them closer together even as they were touching all over.

Stíofán lowered them down onto their pallet, covering him carefully, his arms holding him up. Tony kept kissing him, slipping his hands under his shift and tugging at the _subligaculum_ , until the material unwrapped. Stíofán groaned as two sure hands wrapped around his straining cock. 

“Ooooooh,” he groaned, rubbing his horns against Tony’s. “That’s nice.” He started shifting his hips, seeking more. He looked down at Tony, who was focusing on nibbling his jaw. 

“Yeah, you like that?” The hands tightened adding more delicious pressure and Stíofán gasped. “You want my mouth?”

And that idea was nice too, but he found he wanted to look. He curled his hands around Tony’s arms and rolled, pulling the doe on top. “You going to stay awake this time?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Haha. Yes. Are you going to--”

Stíofán gave Tony’s tail a tug, making the doe squawk. “Patience.” He let his hands rub up and down Tony’s thighs, enjoying how rubbing the fur the wrong way made him shiver. 

He tugged Tony’s shift over his head, letting Stíofán get a good eyeful of the smooth chest and perky nipples. He let his hands run over the newly revealed skin, thumbs rubbing against the bare expanse.

Tony gasped. “That good sweetheart?” Stíofán asked and the doe nodded. 

Stíofán paid careful attention to both nipples watching Tony’s reactions with interest. He wished he had more time to get to know them, but it was getting late, he would need to sleep soon, as much as he’d like to stay in this moment forever.

He put his hands behind his head and gave Tony a cheeky look. “Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. Then rolled his hips, making Stíofán groan. “Are you sure you can take it?”

Stíofán gave his hips a buck, making Tony drop his hands to Stíofán’s chest to keep his balance. “Can you?”

Tony snorted. “I see the wine has made you cocky.” He put a hand behind him and then Stíofán felt pressure on his dick and sighed as he slipped inside. 

Tony moaned, rocking his hips as he did. He started a fast rhythm, bouncing on Stíofán’s cock and panting as he worked them both closer to completion.

Stíofán stared up at him. He was so beautiful. Those eyes, his well-kept beard far more fetching than Stíofán’s, the cute horns that poked out from the unruly curls on his head. And, as Stíofán’s hands held his hips, the just noticeable bump that held their future inside it. 

That’s what mattered. No matter what happened tomorrow, Tony would be safe, and he’d carry Stíofán’s legacy with him, and his child would know a better life. His only regret then was that he would never know what the kid would look like, whether they would have Stíofán’s light colouring or Tony’s pretty brown eyes. He felt the tears prick in his eyes and rubbed them away roughly.

“Hey, hey,” Tony said, hand coming up to cup his jaw. “It’s ok.” 

Stíofán nodded. “I know.” He covered Tony’s hand with his own. “Promise me you’ll go. There’s a handful of coins to get you started, and the rest of the money is sewn into my old tunic for safekeeping. Wear that tomorrow, so you’re ready.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Tony told him fiercely. “I have made you armour fit for the gods, and you will be fine. We will walk out of here together.”

“But if I don’t--”

“You will.”

“If I _don’t--_ ” Stíofán pushed on, needing to hear it.

“If you don’t,” Tony conceded. “Then I will go to _Īweriū._ And I will find your mother and she will welcome me with open arms and the kid and I will live in paradise for the rest of our lives and eat only milk and honey, yes.”

Stíofán snorted. “Maybe I’ve oversold it.”

“You haven’t,” Tony disagreed. “You‘ve given me a path where I might make my own choices away from this stifling place without casting myself adrift. I’m grateful that it was you who chose me, because now I can have an adventure, instead of some awful vapid existence. And well with your looks and mine, the kid should be a real beauty which is always a blessing.” He looked at Stíofán’s arms. “Though I hope the muscles come later or it’ll be a hard labour.”

Stíofán burst out laughing, Tony doing the same. He wrapped his arms around Tony holding him close and kissing him deeply. If this was to be his last night, then he shouldn’t spend it wallowing.

He thrust his hips up making the doe groan. They moved together, the pleasure building as they shifted, the feeling in his belly pulling tighter and together. He knew what he wanted to hear.

“Are you going to bleat for me, sweetheart? Let me hear how good it feels?”

Tony moaned. “Are you going to earn it?”

And really, how could Stíofán ignore a challenge like that? He flipped them, thrusting back in hard and making Tony cry out. “Like this?”

“More,” Tony gasped. “More!”

Stíofán drove in harder, feeling his own need nearing its peak but wanting that sweet bleat in his ears. He slipped his hand down to pull on Tony’s cock, making him shout.

“Come on,” he tilted his hips to hit the spot inside that Tony liked so much. “Come on.”

“Baaaa-aaaa!” Tony bleated breathily. “It’s good, Stíofán please!”

“You’re close, bit more, come on,” Stíofán panted.

“Baaa-AAAAAAAAA,” Tony shouted, spilling between them and Stíofán grunted in triumph, pushing in fast and deep until he came inside, 

He peppered Tony’s face with kisses until he playfully pushed him away. “Enough. You’ve worn me out.”

“Surely not. A tough armour maker like you?”

“You laugh but wait till you see it tomorrow. You’ll be amazed.” He looked thoughtful. “Perhaps I could apply myself to the trade in your homeland. I could make us good money.”

“I’m sure you could.”

“Though I’m not entirely sure bucks would accept armour from a doe.”

“I’ll fight them,” Stíofán told him seriously. “They’ll see how special you are soon enough.”

Tony pushed a strand of Stíofán’s blond hair behind his horn. “I’m glad I have you. And I’m glad our kid will have you to protect them.”

“Tony-”

“Stíofán.”

“I’ll try my best for you. I promise.”

“I know you will.”

They fell asleep tangled together, Stíofán strangely peaceful despite the coming challenge. He had all he needed in his arms.

* * *

“So you accept my challenge, _hoplomachus_?”

“I do, _Imperator.”_ Stíofán looked up at the centaur, stood in his box high above the arena. 

“If you succeed, I will grant you anything you wish. If you die, may the gods be with you.”

“Thank you, _Imperator._ ”

Stíofán turned to face the obstacles before him. A wide pit of snakes, their hissing rising like a cloud of noise. The six _murmillo_ on the other side, their shields and swords raised in preparation. And behind them, the final challenge. A great winged manticore, it’s strong lion body pulling against its binding, the scorpion tail swishing in challenge as it roared. 

“You will cross the pit, battle some of the best fighters in Rome, and defeat the manticore, claiming a feather from its wing. Begin!”

Stíofán looked down at the finely crafted shield on his arm, the blue and red paint stark against the sands. He’d never seen its like before, light and easy to carry but stronger than anything he’d ever seen. 

“It’ll keep you safe,” Tony had told him as they stood at the entrance to the arena. He slipped the handles over Stíofán’s arm, over the greaves he'd made him and the thin breastplate. It was all so light and thin, he hadn’t been sure of it. But Tony had poked him in the chest and told him it would work, and so he had no choice but to believe. 

“Good luck,” Tony had said before Stíofán was escorted out, and he’d been the last thing Stíofán had seen before he stepped out into the bright sun and glare of the arena. 

Stíofán looked at the pit in front of him. Too far to make the jump on his own, but maybe…

Stíofán sheathed his sword, and grit his teeth. He took a few steps back, digging his hooves into the dirt. He took off at a run towards the edge, launching himself off the edge. As he neared the other side, he slashed the shield into the wall. The sharp round edge cut into the dirt, sticking fast. Stíofán clung to his keeping his legs out of reach of the snakes, who snapped and hissed at his hocks. He heaved himself up, digging his hooves in and forcing himself over the edge. He moved fast to dislodge the shield, knowing he wouldn’t have much time before the fighters moved in.

He was right, a sword came swinging towards him and he intercepted it with the shield. It made a loud _clang_ which echoed across the stadium. He could hear the crowd now, a mix of cheers and jeers from all around and he kicked out a hoof to catch another gladiator in an unarmoured part of his leg. He pulled his sword from the scabbard and swung it bringing it down as the man lifted a gauntleted arm to block it. It came crunching down and the man yowled at his no-doubt broken arm. He saw the others approaching and on some wild instinct tossed the shield bouncing it off one into the other and knocking them to the ground. Three down and three to go. He ran forward throwing himself at and crashing them to the ground. The fight wasn’t to the death, and Stíofán made sure to draw visible blood without too much damage, and pushed himself up for the last of his opponents. He was getting tired, so he was glad of the extra training.

The cheering was beginning to outweigh the angry shouts and Stíofán felt a boost of confidence. The two fighters circled him, and Stíofán parried one’s sword strikes, while he fended off the other with the shield. The other satyr caught him off guard with a wild jab, and for a moment Stíofán thought he might strike a lucky blow. But it glanced off his armour, slipping free. In the moment before the other gladiator could lift his again, Stíofán used the handle of his sword against his head, knocking him out deftly. 

With one last opponent to go, he used the shield like a ram, battering it against the other satyr’s own. He shoved hard sweeping the other’s hoof with his own, taking off balance and sending him into the dust. Stíofán put his sword point to the other buck’s throat and looked to the Emperor. 

The emperor nodded, accepting the win, and Stíofán raised his sword in acknowledgement. 

He grinned down at the shield on his arm, and armour on his chest. It was every bit as good as Tony had said, and he felt a swell of pride. He was wearing armour handmade by his doe, who cared for him enough to make him near invincible. He had no plans of losing now. 

He looked back at the gateway where he knew Tony would be, even as the bright light kept him hidden in shadow and sent a wink his way and a smile. 

He turned to the manticore. 

It was a great, hulking beast, heavyset muscles beneath the thick fur and the sharp teeth glistening. Stíofán charged forward, swinging his sword. The manticore swatted at him, an angry roar ripping from its throat. He used the shield to block, the claws making a horrible sound as they scraped down the metal. He slashed at the legs, managing to catch the edge of one and drawing a shallow wound. 

The beast swiped again, this time a claw caught the side of Stíofán’s face, tearing a burning line down his cheek. Stíofán growled, slapping it away with the shield.

The manticore shrieked, its huge wings beating down, the gust sending Stíofán back several steps. 

When he peeked back out from behind the shield, he stared into its eyes expecting the killer instinct of a predator, but instead, he saw...sadness. 

The creature tugged at its chain, whining when it stayed fast and Stíofán realised he was looking at another soul, trapped and kept in a place far from home.

How could he kill the manticore, when all it wanted was what he desired most?

This time Stíofán went in shield high, getting past the front paws, and under the wings. He raised his shield and brought the sharp edge down on the chain that held it to the ground. It took a good three slices to break the chain, and manticore shrieked with anger whirling around to face him, ready to land a killing strike--

Then the loop of the chain fell free of its leg. It stopped, looking down at it, making a confused rumble. It walked backwards, realising it could, and looked back at Stíofán. 

For a moment, he thought he’d miscalculated and he would be gored, trapped against the wall of the arena. But instead, the manticore chirped, and it spread its wings to their fullest extent. They beat down, lifting the beast into the air, and Stíofán reached out, swiping a feather from the wing as the beast launched itself into the air and took to the skies with a loud, cawing shriek.

The crowd was almost silent as they watched it disappear, and Stíofán walked back towards the emperor, feeling the blood dripping down his jaw. 

He held the feather aloft. “I have gained my token. The challenge is won.”

The emperor raised an eyebrow. “You released the manticore. Can you call that defeat?”

“I have taken a feather from its wing. And it can no longer fight. I have defeated it.”

The emperor stared for a moment. Then a wide grin spread over his face, a booming laugh echoing across the arena. “So you have, and it was an entertaining match. So, _hoplomachus,_ what do you ask of your _imperator_?”

There was a clang and a shout, and Stíofán turned just in time to catch Tony as he launched himself at him, his arms around his neck. Stíofán hugged him close, burying his face in his hair for just a second, as he felt the doe tremble. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, and he felt Tony nod, a rather sobbish sounding noise coming from his collarbone. 

“Imperator, I ask for freedom, for me and my doe, and for my _lanista_ to take up a post as your gladiator trainer.”

The emperor made a curious noise. “An interesting request.”

“He has been kind to me and found me my mate, I owe him,” Stíofán said, trying to sell it. He didn’t want anyone to think he knew anything of Fury’s plans. 

“So be it. _Lanista_ Fury will become my imperial trainer, and you _hoplomachus_ go with your mate and my blessing.”

Stíofán placed an arm against his chest in a salute. “Thank you _imperator._ Your kindness is appreciated.”

The emperor laughed. “Go. You have earned it.” He clapped hands. “On with the games.”

They left the arena, ducking into the tunnel as the doors were pulled closed behind them. 

“Gods, I was so--” Stíofán moved just in time to catch Tony as he collapsed, his whole body stiffening. He held him tight while he waited until Tony shook it loose. 

“You were worried? About me? I thought my armour was the best in the world.”

“It is,” Tony sniffed. “Doesn’t mean you couldn’t do something stupid and noble.” He flinched at the blood on Stíofán’s cheek. “You’re hurt, we need to—“

“It’s fine, just a scratch,” Stíofán said, but let Tony dab it away. Then it dawned on him what he’d just done. 

“We’re free,” Stíofán said, and it felt so strange to say it out loud. “Tony, we did it. We’re free.”

“We’re free,” Tony echoed. “We can go. We can have a future.”

Stíofán took Tony’s hand in his. “We’re going home.”

* * *

Stíofán breathed deep as they came over the rise of the hill, the village down below. It looked just as he’d remembered it, just as lively and welcoming as when he’d waved goodbye that final time. 

It was just as serene, and quiet as he—

“Are we here? Please tell me we’re here,” a grumpy voice groaned behind him, and Stíofán couldn’t help his amused smile. He turned around to look at his very round doe on top of the sturdy brown donkey he’d bought on their way out of Rome. “If I have to sit on this _beast_ for a moment longer I will die, do you hear me?”

“Yes beloved,” Stíofán answered dutifully, moving over to the long-suffering animal. 

“‘Beloved’ he says. You are the reason I can no longer walk and you mock me.”

“Never,” Stíofán stepped up on the tips of his hooves and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Am I to perish then? Or may we stop for the day?”

“How about we stop forever?”

That made Tony come up short. “You mean—?”

Stíofán took the reins, pulling the donkey forward until Tony had a clear view of the little fortress below. 

“Oh,” Tony’s voice was soft as he looked over it, eyes wide. “It’s just like you said.”

“Was it worth the months of travel to get here?”

“I think it might just be,” Tony said, still sounding awed. “Oh gods, if it’s still here then I have to meet your clan.”

There was a tell-tale _something_ in his voice and Stíofán nudged him. “None of that. I don’t know what happens if you do that when you’re this size, let alone if you do it off a donkey.”

Tony focused on breathing and glared at Stíofán. “ _This size_? I thought you said I was still as beautiful as when you first saw me.”

“You are. You’re just also a bit bigger and higher off the ground.”

Tony humphed, looking irked, until Stíofán gave his thigh a pat. “Shall we?”

Tony took one final deep breath and nodded, and Stíofán led them down the hill. 

And there, gathering berries with a group of satyrs, was a faun with Stíofán’s colouring. She looked up and their eyes met across the field. Stíofán raised his hand in greeting and her hands came up to cover her mouth. He could see the faintest shine of tears, but even before he’d finished realising that fact, she was rushing through the long grass towards him.

“Maaaaa!” He called and moved to meet her halfway, hugging her and swinging her around with ease. 

“You’re home! I knew you’d come home, my baby,” his ma sobbed hugging him tight. 

“I missed you.” He kissed her cheek, rubbing their horns together as he did. When they pulled apart, she had tears running down her cheeks and he knew he did as well. 

When he could bear to look away from her he stepped back towards the donkey and smiled at Tony. “Ma, this is my family.” He took Tony’s hand placing a kiss to his knuckles. “This is Tony.” Then he gently placed their joined hands on Tony’s rounded stomach. “And this is our little one.”

“A mate and a kid, you could not make me any happier,” his ma said, beaming. “It’s nice to meet you Tony.”

“I—“ Tony said, and then tensed up, slipping sideways.

“Woah,” Stíofán yelped, catching him deftly. He was glad of extra muscle he’d gained on the journey, or he had no doubt he’d be in the dirt. “Quite an introduction sweetheart.”

He stayed close till he felt the muscles unlock, letting Tony stand on his own two hooves. “What did I just say?”

Tony flushed, then hit his arm. “You know I can’t help it!” Then he turned to Stíofán’s ma.

“Hello, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he told her, accepting the hug when it was given and inviting her to place her hands on his belly, a pleased smile on his face. 

Stíofán watched them, his chest near bursting with emotion. He figured if a satyr could die from happiness, well, maybe that wasn’t such a bad way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And boom! I hope you enjoyed it!! 
> 
> Also I have plans for a little bonus chapter - a small bleat-quel if you will - so make sure you’re subscribed so you don’t miss it! ♥️♥️


	4. CODA: Silence of the Bleats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back baby! Hope you enjoy this bonus chapter!

“Out! Gods you two are driving me crazy!” A voice yelled and Stíofán hid his smile. Any moment now…

“Stíofán! You have to take these kids away. If they don’t stop frolicking in Rhodey’s smithy he is going to throw me out!”

Bucky snorted and Stíofán turned just in time for two bouncing balls of fleece to hop into his arms. “What? These two? No, can’t be.”

Hugh giggled as Stíofán bounced him on one arm while Peadar tugged on one of his horns. 

Tony scowled. “There’s molten metal! Rhodey can’t work if he’s having to constantly check one of them isn’t underhoof.”

“But look at these strapping young satyrs,” Stíofán countered. “So free and wild; dancing among the buttercups, nibbling on the thistles. The sun shining on their speckled fleeces, their horns, their--”

“Stop! I cannot listen to this speech again,” Tony whined. “We’re all very grateful you fought the terrifying manticore! But that does not help me make horseshoes!”

Bucky baa’d a laugh at that and Tony’s frown deepened. 

“They can stay with me,” Stíofán placated. “Who wants to help Da by pulling some weeds, hmm?”

The twins cheered, taking off at a sprint to be the first one to grab at the greenery on the newly ploughed field. 

“Hey Buck, can you-”

“Yeh, yeah, I’ll watch ‘em,” Bucky shot back with a wave. “Go on, you love-sick billygoat.”

Stíofán clapped him on the back and took off running up the hill. 

“No, no, no, don’t you-- eeek!” Tony clung to him as Stíofán lifted him into the air, spinning him until the faun shrieked with laughter. 

Stíofán let him slide down until he was at the perfect height to kiss and Tony moaned into it for a moment before he slapped a hand on Stíofán’ shoulder. “Hey! None of that!”

Stíofán pouted. “Why not?”

“Because last time you did that we were gone for the whole afternoon and Rhodey nearly tanned my hide.”

“No he didn’t.”

“No he didn’t, because he’s too nice and instead gave me some berries he’d picked which was actually worse! He said he was worried I wasn’t getting enough to eat. He’s being very generous letting me work there, and then my two terrors come leaping around his smithy, bouncing off the walls and climbing everything.”

“They’re good climbers aren’t they?” Stíofán said, knowing he was preening and Tony rolled his eyes. 

“The best in the village. Now please keep them out here where they frolic on the rolling green hills, trot through the bluebells and--”

“And let you work. Alright, I get it,” Stíofán snorted, then dipped down to kiss Tony one more time. 

When he let him go, Tony looked a little dazed but shook it off. As the doe made his way back through the gate, Stíofán watched the fine rump bounce beneath the warm woollen shift he wore, fastened at the front, Stíofán knew, with the brooch he’d had made for him when the twins were born. He watched till Tony was out of sight, thinking about how the twins would curl up by the fire in their roundhouse later and he and Tony could retire to their soft bed, curled up beneath the furs. If he was lucky, his hand would wander and Tony would press into them, eager as they moved together, trying to stay quiet…

“Oi, Aengus, quit thinking with your cock and come watch your spawn. They’ll be digging up the wheat next.”

Stíofán huffed but picked up his tools to get back to work. He had to put in the labour if he wanted to earn a bleat. 

* * *

“Da, tell a story,” Hugh begged as they sat around the fire, his bowl of stew Tony had made before darting back to finish a few things at the smithy waiting to cool. 

Stíofán hummed. “Have you been good enough for a story? Behaved all day?”

“Yeah!” Peadar said, shoving in a mouthful of his dinner. “Very good.”

“Even when I told you to not to play in the stream?”

Hugh looked a little chastened. “That was an accident. Peadar falled.”

“Uh huh.”

Both kids’ eyes were on him, big and round. He sighed. “Oh alright then.”

They cheered, wiggling over to sit at his feet. “But you have to eat up. It'll be time for sleep soon.”

Peadar nodded, shoving in another spoonful and dripping some of the broth on the floor. 

So Stíofán told them the tale of Mac Da Thó’s pig, so big it could only be carried by forty oxen and how it had been cooked for a great feast where the heroes fought over who would get the lion’s share.

"' _Find among the men of Ériu one to match me in feats – otherwise I will carve the pig!'"_ He intoned in a dramatic voice and the kids’ laughed in delight. 

“I hear giggling and no sleeping,” Tony said as he pushed back the furs at the entrance to the house. 

“Da’s telling us a story,” Hugh chirped and Tony smiled.

“Oh I see.” Tony tugged off his cloak, folding it by the door before grabbing his own bowl of stew. He went to sit by the kids but Stíofán reached out, pulling him to perch on his knee. 

“Like that is it?” Tony asked, voice amused and Stíofán tried not to blush beneath his beard. He was glad it hid his cheeks, having been able to grow it in the longer, thicker style his people preferred now that he was free. Tony kept his short, something widely talked about along with his olive skin but Stíofán had a feeling one more winter might change that if his cold pink cheeks were anything to go by.

“Yes sir.”

“Then go on _hoplomachus_ , tell these little monsters their story. Do not go quiet on my account.” He settled in comfortably, tucking into his meal with enthusiasm. 

So Stíofán told the tale, with his mate on his knee and his kids at his feet and a roaring fire behind them keeping them all toasty as the cold winds blew outside. And if his hand came down to squeeze one of the rounded cheeks that had plumped so well with the rigour of village life and the hearty food; well, only a certain faun knew. 

When the story was done, Tony gave both little satyrs a kiss on the head before he went outside to clean their bowls, leaving Stíofán to wrestle the kids into bed. 

“Tomorrow I have to help with the new housebuilding,” Stíofán told the kids as he pulled the blanket over them as they snuggled up together. “Remember? For Bucky and his new doe. He arrives by next moon and we have to be ready.”

The kids nodded, Hugh in particular looking interested at the prospect of someone new in the village. “So tomorrow, will you be good for your nana while I help with the building and your Ma works with Rhodey?”

Peadar yawned. “Yes Da.”

“Good boy. Hugh?”

“Yes Da.”

“Alright. If you’re good, I’ll ask Ma if you can have some honey with your bread, how does that sound? Good?”

“Yeah!” 

“Goodnight my treasures.” Stíofán leaned down, kissing each horn and nose before tucking the furs beneath their chins as their eyes fluttered closed. 

Stíofán tossed another log on the fire, checking for stray coals around the edges before heading over to the fabric sheet that hid their bed. The partition was an unusual addition since the houses were usually all one room, but Tony had grown used to his privacy after the Stables and hadn’t been ready to give it up, which Stíofán understood. He heard the swish of the fur at the entrance as Tony returned with the bowls, tying the fabric behind him to block out the chill. Stíofán stripped off his shirt and the thick trousers he wore, shivering as the cool air crept over his skin. 

He slipped under the covers, stretching out and getting comfortable. It wasn’t long before the curtain was tugged back and a faun shoved his way into his arms.

“Brrrrrr,” Tony said with a shiver. “It’s so cold out there, how is it so cold?”

Stíofán tucked him under his chin with a chuckle. “Wish you were back in Aquileina?”

Tony shook his head. “Never.”

“Good.”

He petted Tony’s horns as they settled in, the crackle of the fire and the backdrop of the winds making him feel safe and warm.

He could’ve nodded off, happy and warm with his mate in his arms. But instead, a hand slid it’s way down his chest, wrapping around the base of his cock. He kept his eyes closed, trying not to react.

The hand moved up and then down. “Surely you’re not sleeping so soon?” A sultry voice whispered in his ear.

Stíofán hummed. “Got a long day tomorrow. Got to get the foundations of the house built for Bucky, his Somhairle arrives soon and he wants to be ready.”

“I’m sure Somhairle will be as smitten with Bucky as he was at the festival, house or no house,” Tony said, squeezing him a little tighter. “But your doe will be in a huff, and really, what is your priority?”

Stíofán smirked. “A huff you say?”

“A very big huff. Maybe I’ll be so dissatisfied, I’ll forget to start breakfast and you’ll have to go to the housebuilding, hungry, lamenting if only you had mounted--”

Stíofán rolled them, resting easily between Tony’s thighs. “-mounted my beautiful doe? Perhaps you are right; I would lament missing a chance to get inside you, to feel you come apart around me.”

Tony whimpered and Stíofán kissed him, rubbing himself against Tony leisurely, just enjoying the sensation even as Tony wriggled beneath him. 

“Stíofán, please,” the doe whispered. “I have been ready since you fondled me over dinner! _Please_.”

“Of course my love,” Stíofán said, feeling pleased. He liked that he could make Tony so desperate, so ready to take him however he chose to. It was heady but also humbling that his doe would trust Stíofán to take care of him. He loved it. He pushed in, a slow glide as Tony’s breath escaped in a sigh. They rocked together, in no rush, as the wind howled. Eventually Stíofán’s need grew too much to keep teasing and he shoved in hard making Tony squeak. 

“Ah, ah,” Stíofán admonished. “Got to keep it down, or you’ll wake the little ones.”

Tony gave him a dirty look, biting his lip as Stíofán drove in again. Stíofán could almost see the sound trying to escape. He tilted his angle, and went again, harder still and this time Tony moaned.

They both froze, listening for the signs of waking kids, but when it remained silent, Stíofán raised an eyebrow. “Thought I told you to keep quiet?”

“I’m starting to want you to make me,” Tony whispered back and Stíofán felt a pulse of want. If that was how the doe wanted to play, he could play.

He pulled out, turning the doe onto his belly and pushing his face into the soft mattress. He was careful not to block Tony’s air, but when he plunged back in, the sound was muffled as Tony grunted. “That’s better.”

He went for it, mounting Tony hard and deep, the satisfaction running through him. He ducked down so he could speak into Tony’s ear. “I miss having you like this. Remember, when you were big, round with my kids, and I would take you in the woods just. Like. This?” he punctuated the words with thrusts and Tony whined into the bedding making Stíofán grin.

“Can’t wait for the next ones, think we could go for three?”

Tony reached back to smack his arm. “Don’t joke, it was hard enough carrying two.”

“You might not have a choice, I’ve been told I am one of the strongest satrys in the village. _Virile_.”

“Just because some of the village resents your roman whore doesn’t mean you have to show off by filling me to bursting,” Tony huffed then shoved his face back down into the bedding to muffle his cries. 

“Shows what they know,”Stíofán said lightly as he picked up the pace. here would be a few bucks who would meet the ends of his horns tomorrow though, make no mistake. “If you were my roman whore I’d have you hooves in the air and ready for me whenever I want, not working your fingers to the bone at the forge.”

“You--” Tony squeaked again and Stíofán found he liked it. 

“You’re dying to bleat aren’t you? But you can’t, you just have to take what I give you and keep quiet. Letting your big barbarian buck mount you and fill you so you can give me some more of the finest looking kids in the village. You look gorgeous when you’re carrying, like a fire’s been lit up inside you and I get to know it’s because of me.” His own whispered words were pushing him closer to the edge and he slid one arm underneath Tony’s chest to hold him close as one hand drifted down to squeeze a furred cheek. “Gorgeous.”

He kept up a steady rhythm, pulling Tony slightly onto knees so he could reach underneath and begin to stroke. The faun writhed beneath him and Stíofán had to start focusing on not making noises himself. He could hear Tony begging for relief and so, he gave a strong twist of his hand. Tony went limp with a long muffled groan.

Free to finish, Stíofán gave a dozen more messy thrusts before he finished, curling around Tony and burying his face in the curls between his horns. When he had caught his breath, he pawed around for a rag, wiping them down and tossing it aside for washing. As he laid back, Tony curled up on his chest, tugging the furs to their shoulders. 

“Big barbarian buck,” Tony snorted. “Who are you trying to fool with that? You carried me to the forge the other day so my hooves didn’t get muddy.”

“Doesn’t sound like me,” Stíofán said, eyes falling shut. 

“Uh huh,” Tony sighed again. “I hope you’ve thought about what more kids mean. They can’t all come to the forge, you’d have to watch them.”

“Ma will help.”

“And will there be enough room here?”

That had Stíofán frowning. “Are you suggesting I didn’t take kids into consideration when I built this house for you. The second biggest in the village? We could have a dozen and there’d be space and love for all of them.”

“Well let’s not get too carried away,” Tony grouched but underneath it, he sounded pleased. “I would’ve thought you’d want a break from the crying and being woken up at all hours.”

“So did I. But I miss the tiny hooves, waiting for their first horns to come in. The kids are old enough now that they don’t need as much watching and if you’re carrying soon, they’ll be just in time for next spring.”

“And I will be the size of fattened pig and you’ll have me at your mercy, is that it?” Tony purred. “Unable to do anything but lie here and wait for you to come home. Is that what you secretly wish?”

Stíofán rolled his eyes. “Well, it would certainly mean I didn’t have to worry you’d been skewed by a hot poker or knocked by a stray hammer.”

“That wouldn’t happen. I’m too skilled.”

“Mhmmmm.”

“I am!”

Stíofán let his hand slide forward until it was resting on Tony’s belly, unable to resist the flicker of hope that this might be the time they added to their little family. A doe this time maybe, with Tony’s dark eyes, since the bucks had taken so much of Stíofán’s colouring. 

“At least this time I will be cosy and not on the back of that horrid donkey or being mounted in the wilds by some savage,” Tony said with a yawn. “I will have a nice bed and nice things to eat.”

“Are you saying I didn’t provide for you on the journey?” Stíofán asked, poking Tony in the side. 

“I’m saying I get tasty treats from kind bucks here,” Tony sniffed and Stíofán rolled his eyes.

“You mean Rhodey.”

“He’s sweet.” 

Stíofán bit his lip, trying not to laugh. “That’s because he thinks your fainting is because you don’t eat enough. He asked me about it.”

Tony looked up at him. “And you didn’t correct him?”

Stíofán snorted. “Why would I? He keeps giving you sweet foods, means I don’t have to.”

Tony burst out laughing. “He’s going to get you back when he finds out, you know.”

“Probably, but I think I can take him.”

Tony hummed. His hand came up to brush over Stíofán’s horns which had flourished without constantly being butted during training. “You do have a fine pair of horns. Very intimidating.”

“That’s not the only intimidating pair I’ve got.”

“Gods you are incorrigible,” Tony said, slapping his pec with a laugh. “But joking aside, yes I would like my next carrying to be easier. Less fear, less stress. More lying here like this with you while you rub my back. We’ve earned it, my love.”

Stíofán leaned down to kiss him. “We have. You will have all the luxuries I can give you, I will wait on you hand and hoof. You shall want for nothing.”

“That sounds nice.”

“And ma will help us after, you know she dotes on the kids. What’s five compared to two really?”

“I suppose you’re- Five?!” Tony squawked, then lowered his voice. “You better hope that’s not true or I’ll kick you out of my bed till we’re old and grey.”

“Mhmmm.”

“I would.”

Stíofán ran a hand down the doe’s belly, his fingers teasing south. “You sure?”

“Ooooh, yes I would. You’d be in so much— mmmmm— trouble.”

Stíofán rubbed a palm over the interested area. “Well, that is a shame.” He gave one more stroke to hear Tony’s caught breath and pulled his hand away. 

“You put that hand back, sir,” Tony ordered. “Or you’ll get cold oats in the morning.”

“I think you’re bluffing.”

“You want to test that?” Tony asked, crawling up Stíofán’s chest to stare down at him, still the most beautiful thing Stíofán has ever seen. “You, trying to swallow lumpy cold mush while the twins and I shovel down lovely hot food, all silky smooth, chasing away the winter chill. Maybe we’ll have a little honey in ours but you, sir, will miss out.”

His tail wagged tantalisingly over Tony’s shoulder at the edge of Stíofán’s vision.

Stíofán shook his head. “That’s cruel, so cruel. I’m going to be out providing shelter to a new family and you would take my food from me?”

“I would. Unless you do your duty.” He thrust his hips against Stíofán’s belly. “Come on, my big, strong buck.”

Stíofán pretended to think for a moment before he rolled them over, wrapping a hand around Tony’s cock and worshipping him with his hand and mouth until he spilled again, his cries muffled by a kiss.

No one liked cold oats after all.

* * *

Stíofán stretched, his back popping as he took a break from stirring the straw and mud needed for the walls. 

The house was starting to take shape though it’d be some time before it was finished. Bucky was walking around like cock of the walk as they prepared, talking about how fine his doe was and how he was going to fill his house with kids.

“Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself?” Stíofán asked, pushing his sweaty hair behind his horns. “What if he gets here and realises what a slob you are? What doe wants to raise kids amongst your hoof trimmings?”

Bucky scowled, tossing a handful of mud Stíofán’s way. “I’m going to treat my doe like a queen. And I’m going to get fat on his cooking, you’ll see. All does are good at it and his Buck said so when I asked to make the match.”

Stíofán laughed. “We’ll see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well everyone knows a sire will lie about their kid, everyone’s trying to show off.” Stíofán picked up the spade to keep mixing. “Tony couldn’t cook at all when he got here. Ma had to teach him and I still do a lot of it when he’s at the forge.”

Bucky looked disappointed. “Damn. I was sick of eating mush for all my meals.” Then he perked up. “He’s still beautiful though. So I guess that’s something.”

Stíofán hid a grin. “Glad to see you got your priorities in order.”

“You didn’t see him. Soft fleece, dark hair and nicely curled horns. Fluffy tail. Gorgeous.”

“And how do you know what his fleece felt like?”

Bucky went red. “It just looked soft!”

“You horny bastard,” Stíofán baaaaa-d, happy to tease the hell out of Bucky even while knowing he was a huge hypocrite given how he’d picked his own mate. Unless Tony’s personality was in his ass, Stíofán didn’t have a hoof to stand on. But he wasn’t going to let Bucky know that. 

“Shut up Stíofán.”

They worked for a little longer, managing to get the base structure down. Tomorrow they’d have to start building the frame - based on Tony’s design, which had endeared him to the village for its success at keeping out the cold and the rain. They set to stripping the wood they’d need for the poles with their horns. 

“Da!” Stíofán looked up to see Hugh and Peadar darting over, bouncing off fences while his Ma ran after them looking frustrated. 

Stíofán put his hands on his hips, giving them a stern look. “Are you giving your nana trouble?”

“But we have to show you something!” Hugh cried, bouncing around him in a circle. “Now, now, now!”

Stíofán snatched the kid up mid-bounce and held him tightly. “I don’t care what you had to show me, you say sorry for making her chase you.”

Hugh slumped in his arms but rolled his head back to look at Ma upside down. “Sorry nana. _”_

“Sorry nana,” Peadar echoed, looking somewhat chastised. 

His Ma huffed. “You're as bad as your father was when he was a kid. He always used to run away when it was time for his bath.”

“Ma!” Stíofán complained and the kids giggled. So much for looking responsible. 

“Alright, now what was so important that you had to rush over here?”

Hugh wiggled free and he and Peadar raced to the top off the tall woodpile. “Hey, hey, off there, it’s not stable.”

“Look, look!” Hugh said, and then he turned to Peadar, sucked in a breath and gave a loud, “Arrrrgh!”

Peadar looked back at him. “It didn’t work this time!”

Hugh looked confused. “It did before. Arrgggh!”

Peadar shook his head. 

“I don’t know what you're doing, but off the wood pile now please,” Stíofán said, watching a few of the poles shift.

“But it just--”

The wood moved, several of the thick beams popping free and Stíofán leapt forward with his heart in his throat, trying to grab the kids as they tumbled off. The wood clattered as it fell everywhere and the kids disappeared from sight.

“Gods,” Stíofán cursed, hurrying over to push the poles away as Bucky hurried to the other side to help uncover them. He could hear the sounds of approaching hooves but all he could focus on was getting the kids free.

“What happened?” Tony called as he and Rhodey hurried over, likely summoned by the crash. 

Stíofán pulled a log free to reveal the kids underneath and breathed a sigh of relief as he realised the way the wood had fallen had boxed them in and stopped them being crushed. “Thank fuck.”

He pulled Hugh out, giving him to Bucky before tugging Peadar out, feeling his heart stop when he felt how stiff the kid was. Had he hit his head on the way down?

“Peadar!” He cradled the kid in his arms giving him a little jostle. “Come on, wake up baby.”

Tony appeared at his side, clutching his arm tight in worry. “Is he ok? Is he--”

Peadar twitched and blinked looking up at them. “Da?”

“Thank the gods,” Stíofán breathed, resting his forehead against Peadar’s for a moment. “I thought he was really hurt.”

“Oh!” Tony said, covering his mouth with his hands. 

“What?”

“See! He did it!” Hugh said pointing at his brother. “See Da?”

“What do you--”

Tony snorted. “Guess it didn’t skip a generation this time.”

Stíofán felt like he was being very slow, though it was hard to think with the panic still subsiding. “I don’t--”

“When I scare him, he falls!” Hugh crowed and Stíofán blinked. 

“Fainting satyr,” Stíofán managed, the pieces clicking into place. “He’s a fainting satyr. He was down longer than you usually are.”

“Takes longer when you’re little, you aren’t used to it.” Tony reached out and gave Peadar’s hair a ruffle. “You gave your Da a scare hmm?”

Peadar reached his arms up to loop around Stíofán’s neck, rubbing his horns against Stíofán’s. “Sorry Da.”

“Stay on the ground from now on please?” Stíofán told him, giving him a nuzzle. “If you faint while you’re high up you could hurt yourself.”

“Yes Da.”

“And that goes for you too Hugh. Hooves on ground,” Tony added.

“Yes Ma.”

Bucky handed Hugh to Tony. “I think we’re done for the day. Take your brood home before the small ones give me a damn heart attack.” He wandered off towards his parents’ house with a wave. 

“Alright, I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow, we’ll get the frame up,” Stíofán called. He wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s have an early dinner. Ma, Rhodey, you’ll join us?” 

Tony hesitated, looking to the other satyr. “Oh, Rhodey, the armour; we should--”

Rhodey shook his head. “It’ll keep. ‘Sides seems to me your buck’s been lying to me about you not eating enough so he damn well owes me something.”

Tony laughed while Stíofán tried to look innocent. “Seems fair. Guess we ought to get started.”

* * *

“Stíofán!”

Stíofán looked around to see Rhodey rushing over, Tony cradled against his chest. 

His heart leapt up in his throat as he dropped the pole and rushed to meet him. Was his whole family _trying_ to give him grey fleece hairs? “What is it, did he hurt himself in the forge?”

Tony groaned, looking up at Stíofán with big sad eyes.

Rhodey shook his head. “He was sick. I gave him some ale but it didn’t help and then he got dizzy.”

Stíofán held out his arms, taking him from the other buck. “I’ll take him home, let him lie down.” He looked over to Bucky and the other satyrs helping to attach the last of the main frame of the roundhouse. They were getting close to finishing now, just the thatch to be done. Bucky waved him off and Stíofán nodded his thanks. 

“Feel better Tony,” Rhodey said, looking very concerned. “I’ll check in on you tomorrow,” he called as he left to head back to the forge.

“He likes you you know,” Stíofán told Tony who turned his face in Stíofán’s bare chest. 

“Not like that,” Tony murmured. 

“No, I know. I’m glad he’s your friend. Means I don’t have to worry about you when you’re working.” He hugged the faun tightly. “Come on, let’s get you back.”

He tucked Tony into bed, tucking the furs around him and putting a hand on his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

“You did this to me,” Tony groaned, and Stíofán frowned. 

“Me?”

Tony’s eye pried itself open to glare at him. “I’d forgotten what this feels like and I hate it.”

It took a second for Stíofán to click. “You mean--?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Gods, I-- I’d hoped but I--” Stíofán could feel the grin sliding over his face, the happy bubbling of joy in his chest.

“Take that grin off your face,” Tony said with a glare. “You can be happy when this passes. Until then, you can rub my back and bring me some of that spicy root the other does chew on for the sickness.”

Stíofán didn’t manage to stifle his grin, he was too excited but he did lean down to give Tony a long kiss on the forehead and a nuzzle. He got a nuzzle in return so he figured he wasn’t in too much trouble. “Waiting on you hand and hoof, we agreed. I’ll go fetch some.”

He went by the healer to get some of the ginger, making sure to fetch some more meat from the trader. Tony would need his strength when he felt better. 

When he returned, he found the kids had come in from play and were curled up next to the doe. They’d obviously realised he was unwell, as their usual excited chatter was absent. 

“Da,” Hugh said, sounding worried. “Ma threw up.” He pointed to a clay pot on the ground. 

Stíofán hissed in sympathy. “Let me grab a cup of water for him, you give him this.”

He handed the ginger to Hugh who knee walked back up the bed to present it to Tony who smiled gratefully. Stíofán removed the clay pot and cleaned it out, before coming back to lie at the head of the bed, pulling Tony up to lie against him. 

Peadar looked on worried. “Ma got a fever?”

Stíofán shook his head. “He’s just feeling a little unwell. It’ll pass.” He wondered if he should mention that Tony was carrying but decided against it. Better to wait till Tony was well so he wasn’t peppered with questions. 

Tony chewed on the root, the colour slowly coming back to his face and he held out his arms for the kids. “Come here, my babies.”

They snuggled up against him, Stíofán’s arms around them all. “Maybe Da will tell us a story, hmm?”

It wasn’t only the kids who looked at him with pleading eyes. Stíofán chuckled. It wouldn’t be long before he was telling stories to a bigger audience and he couldn’t wait. 

_“Far beyond the hills, near the big trees, lies the sea and all its wonders. One day a satyr went to catch himself a meal but instead saw a beautiful doe, laying on the rocks. She had seaweed for fleece and not hooves, but the tail of a fish! And covering her horns, a little red cap. He decided he would take her for his bride…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stíofán was right about the triplets, Tony is _not_ amused 😂
> 
> Also, they have a bunch more because Tony always forgets how much he hates morning sickness until it's too late because the kids are too cute.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys have never seen a fainting goat, google it, it's amazing!
> 
> Come say hi! Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BladeoftheNebu1)/[Tumblr](https://bladeofthenebula27.tumblr.com/) Join the [Put on the Suit (18+) server](https://discord.gg/z5WSqbS) over on discord to hang out with fellow stony fans! It’s a super welcoming community and we have a lot of fun ♥️


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